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Vagrant, Itinerant
He roams throughout the stars
Hauling worthless cargo to near and to far
Progeny of Prostitute
Born of a spaceport queen
Running from his destiny, responsibility

Chosen to hide, chosen to run
He can’t escape the things he’s seen
And everything he’s done

Centaurean,
Annie’s bastard son
Stronger than fate
He is the key, protecting the gate

Vanished into nowhere, gone without a trace
To the anonymity of federation space
Hunted by great leaders, by law by anarchy
Running from his blood's command and from their treachery

Chosen to hide, chosen to run
He can’t escape the things he’s seen
And everything he’s done


Scalpels pierce into his mortal form
Augmentation, a window to his soul
Running to the light, from law from anarchy
The Openers provide, as he's seeking sanctuary


Nowhere to turn, nowhere to run
The new Centaurean, Annie’s bastard son
Chosen to stand - chosen to fight
The new Centaurean - Blessed, Sacred, Right

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